


you're safe

by goose_caller



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Daddy Issues, Family Issues, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kinda, M/M, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Indulgent, To Be Edited, Work In Progress, pyro's just mentioned tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29928390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goose_caller/pseuds/goose_caller
Summary: soldier has ptsd and ✨t r a u m a✨ and demoman helps himthey arent friends they're just coworkers but at the end of the fic maybe they're closer who knows the only way to find out is to read it ooooohh oooo you really want to read this don't cha *starts hypnotizing you* oooooh ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oojk , but it would be nice if you would :)
Relationships: Demoman & Soldier (Team Fortress 2), Demoman/Soldier (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	you're safe

**Author's Note:**

> tried to do somethin' sweet but it got kinda edgy because it's me writing it lol
> 
> first (public) work for this fandom :)
> 
> oh ye uhhhh the chapter title is from woody guthrie's song of the same name because i feel like our soldja boi would like woody guthrie (and that might or might not be because he made a song called "tear the facists down"...)

It was a pleasant night at the base. Despite the weather in New Mexico being fairly consistent, it was obvious that spring was on its way. Soldier sat on the folding chair around the small fire he’d set up with the Demoman and Pyro, silently considering how it was still “technically winter” (if the Spy was to be trusted). The Scotsman shuffled back into the light, being greeted by an unusually relaxed Jane.

“Mucker, ye awe rite?” Solly’s eyes left the fire as the Demoman broke him from his daze.

“I’m okay, I was just thinking, Demoman,” he said, the slightest bit of offense in his voice.

“Ah didne ken ye waur capable of 'at, Janey!” Demo set down the two coolers he was gripping onto before diving back down again to take out a couple beers.

“Ye want one?”

Jane let out an affirming grunt in reply before taking the cold bottle from Tavish’s hand.

“Sit down, private.” He patted the beach chair next to him. “You need to relax.” The Demoman snorted at that.

“That's rich comin' frae ye!” Soldier didn’t really understand what he was implying, but the Scot seemed to be joking around, so he let out a few chuckles too. When the pair had both relaxed back into their seats, they stared at the warmth of the fire together in silence. Bordering uncomfortable silence.

“Seems tae be dyin' doon,” the taller one stated blankly. Soldier began to get up and out of his seat to get more firewood, but was stopped by Tavish’s voice saying “Ye don’t have tae lave.”

Demo regretted saying that right after it came out. It would have been one thing to say it at a bar packed full of people and music, but with just him and the soldier in the dead of night, the words sounded oddly personal. Jane sat back down.

“-Pyro's collected enaw wood tae last it a while bit longer,” Tavish continued in an attempt to clarify himself. They sat in a bit more silence.

“Where did the Pyro run off to anyway?” asked the soldier, filling in the empty gap of words in the pair’s conversation (if you could even call it that).

“Beats me. Said somethin' abit bein' busy.”

“Oh.”

…

The flames crackled.

“Demoman,” Soldier started, voice sounding gruff yet uncharacteristically relaxed.

“Ye?” Tavish looked over at the American whose eyes were locked on the fire.

“Have you ever been to the beach?”

“A coople times when Ah was wee, yeah. Wa ye ask?” He took a long sip of his beer.

“I grew up around some beaches.”

For some reason, Tavish found himself surprised at this statement. He realized that he didn’t really ever hear about Jane’s childhood. He was both curious and too sober to be interesting, so he made sure to be careful with what he said next. He wanted to ask questions but avoid making Soldier uncomfortable in any way.

“Och, whit state ur ye frae?”

“Michigan.” Demoman turned his head to see if he was joking or not, asking with a big smile on his face, “Michigan has beaches?”

“Yes! Well, I guess not, really. They’re lakes. America’s Great Lakes!”

Demoman decided he wasn’t drunk enough to humor Jane at the moment, so he opted to pass up his speaking turn in order to take a few big swigs of the now almost-empty bottle of beer. He regretted not having brought liquor. He glanced over at the other man only to see his bottle half empty already. Surprised, he asked him the same question he had a few minutes earlier.

“Ye alrecht?”

“Of course, maggot! You already asked me that.”

“Sorry, Ah forgot,” he drawled out, face heating up a bit. He wasn’t even that drunk yet.

Soldier felt Demo’s gaze leave him and he allowed himself to relax into his chair once again. Now that it was truly night time, the dark put him on edge a bit.

He’d much rather have something like a wall behind him. He wasn’t afraid of anyone sneaking up on him behind, no. He was just cautious. The soldier began to look around in an attempt of finding something solid he could put his chair against. The closest thing he could see was a tree a couple yards away from where they set up their spot, but that would have to do.

Demo watched as Soldier seemingly out of random got up from his lawn chair. The American placed his beer down on the grass before wordlessly picking up the seat and walking it to a tree. Still embarrassed by his earlier checking in on the soldier, Demoman just watched in silence waiting for the scene to explain itself. Soldier walked back to the fire to grab his half filled bottle of Bud Light, stopping when seeing the Scotsman’s curious expression.

“I am covering all bases” he explained, as if that wouldn’t confuse the demolitions expert even more. “—you never know when someone will attack from behind. Especially in the dark.”

_ Ah. Okay. _ Demoman wasn’t really sure he was using “covering all bases” in the correct context, but he decided against bringing it up to the boisterous teammate. He also didn’t bring up the fact that the soldier was now about two meters away from him and so it would be much harder to talk to him from this distance. He took another swig of his beer only to empty it all. Demo reached for another one before asking the soldier if he wanted another as well despite his bottle looking to be decently heavy.

“No thank you, Private,” the soldier responded, “consuming too much alcohol makes your defenses slow down.”

Demoman let out a scoff at that—not one like Spy does (passive) aggressively, but a genuine laugh of disbelief. What a funny way to admit you’re a lightweight.

“Whae ye sae keyed up? Ye afraid ay th' dark ur somethin'?” Tavish attempted to say lightheartedly. Soldier seemed to take it with great offense.

“I could be saving both of our asses, maggot!” the soldier roared.

“Woh woh woh, it's jist a joke, mate. Nae need tae be radge.”

Solly seemed to relax a bit at that statement.

“Sorry” he admitted gruffly, gaze shooting to the fire.

“It's awe rite, mate.”

They both sat in silence again. Demo continued to regret accepting the pyromaniac’s offer to hang out with him and Solly even more now. It was awkward and uncomfortable, and as much as he disliked the notion, he knew Solly just wasn’t the brightest bulb. He couldn’t imagine why Pyro hung out with the loud American, but even more, he cursed the firebug for dipping on him last second. Now he had two choices: excuse himself, or tough it out and endure the company of the soldier for another hour or so. And as much as the boisterous American grinded his gears, he felt bad leaving him alone. The dude obviously wasn’t the closest with the other teammates either—besides Pyro, who was busy—so he knew he’d feel like shite if he ditched him to hang out and drink with Mundy and Dell.

“Lake Michigan actually  _ is  _ one of the largest lakes in America,” interrupted Soldier’s voice from behind him, more quiet than usual. “Ask Engineer.”

Demoman relaxed back into his chair laughing heartily at the fact that Solly was still continuing the conversation from fifteen minutes ago. He also found it amusing that he referenced Dell, the smartest American out of the three on the team.

“Awright, I’ll do that.” Demo replied, still not believing there was such a thing as the ‘Great Lakes’ or whatever the guy had said earlier.

“What’s so funny, Private?” Jane shouted, breaking the spell of relaxation Demoman was finally falling into.

“Naethin', Solly,” his words slurred together, “jist 'at yoo’re sae persistent abit it.”

“Well I feel like you don’t believe me,” the American replied, face reddening.

“Nae, nae, Ah dae, Ah’m jist a bit tipsy, that’s aw, mucker.” They both opted to take another few sips of beer. Well, the Scot took a few chugs. He looked over his shoulder at Soldier to see his face still red, assuming it was now caused by the alcohol in his system rather than anger. He wondered if Jane ever really drank. His head turned back to the glowing remains of what used to be a fire.

Soldier’s fingers felt fat and hot as the cool air began to settle over his skin, raising goosebumps on the parts of his body not covered by thick fabric. Maybe it really was still winter after all, he thought, his under-the-influence brain causing him to slip back into rest.  _ Outdoors is for physical activities _ , something automatic in his brain told him; But this was fine, he mentally shrugged.  _ Lord in Heaven _ , this brewski really was making his brain all muddy, but it sure did feel good. He brought the bottle up to his lips again only to find it to be empty.

“It sure is cold,” the Scotsman’s voice slurred out from in front of him. Jane Doe felt a sudden wave of nauseating chilliness settle over him at those words. This time, it wasn’t because of the breeze or the perspiring bottle of Bud Light in his hand. His soul told him that the dread he was experiencing was the memory of someone he used to know. The thinking side of his brain told him that really, the man he was thinking of shouldn’t be following him at a time like this, but the feeling side of him told him otherwise. He broke out into a cold sweat, head feeling a bit dizzy, worsened by the effects of the alcohol in his blood.

The demoman turned his head back to Solly when he didn’t receive a response, only to be greeted by the man looking around and gripping onto the sides of his chair.

“Solly…?” he breathed out in question. The soldier didn’t seem to hear him. Yeah, the dude was volatile, but his outbreaks usually happened when he was with the whole team. He’d already asked the dude if he was okay  _ twice  _ in the span of half an hour, but he didn’t know what else to say. But before he could open his mouth to ask, Solly blurted out something that left the demo confused.

“Sir?” The American spoke in a voice sounding timid and shaky (for his standards).

“Mate, it’s me-” Demoman was interrupted by a series of “no, no, no”s and “I’m sorry”s at a quick and quiet pace.

“Soldier!” the Scotsman said firmly, almost shouting. “What’s wrang, mate?”

“Dad, I didn’t do it,”

Half expecting no coherent conclusion, those five words from the soldier’s mouth made him feel ill. He understood what was happening. He’d heard about this, but he didn’t know what to do because he’d never dealt with someone going through something like this.

The Demoman briefly considered going back to the base to get help from the medic or someone. but that idea was thrown out when he heard a sob erupt from the soldier’s mouth. The man had his knees curled to his chest and was now sitting on the ground, his almost finished beer bottle rolling next to him on its side. He still had his helmet on, even though he could imagine the uncomfortable feeling of the brim of it rubbing against his tightly crossed arms his head was buried under. The sight of the tough man so broken down made his heart hurt.

Tavish couldn’t leave him here like this.

Thinking back to a book, a manual, a newspaper,  _ anything  _ he could remember that had something to do with PTSD, he recalled one memory almost forgotten from when he was a kid in the library reading a fiction novel about a situation similar to this one. The main character had told her ex-military friend that he was having a flashback. Hoping this was the right thing to do, Demoman repeated what he remembered the girl doing.

“You’re having a flashback, Solly,” he said, trying his best to stop his voice from shaking. Tavish avoided saying the soldier’s real name, mostly because he didn’t  _ know  _ his real name, but partially because he didn’t want to trigger anymore flashbacks to before Soldier was a  _ soldier _ . 

He slowly got up from his lawn-chair to walk over to the quivering man. Once he’d gotten an arm’s length from him, the demoman repeated what he’d said a few seconds before.

“Soldier, it’s nae real.” Though the American didn’t show any signs of hearing him, he was a bit more confident he was doing the right thing. “Breath, mate.” _Maybe he should lift the man’s helmet up so he can see him?_ _No_ , he decided against it. The last thing he wanted to do was aid in making Solly even more nervous. The man didn’t really like to be touched anyway. _Maybe this is why._

More stuttering and whimpering came from the man curled up in front of him, bringing Tavish back to the present.

“Yoo're alrecht, it’s me, Tavi—.” He stopped. “—Demoman,” he continued saying firmly amidst other things he thought would help. Eventually, after what felt to the Scotsman like half an hour of sobbing and shaking, Soldier’s body began to loosen up, allowing his arms to fall to his sides. He looked up at Demo with a red, runny-nosed and tear-streaked face. His helmet was still covering his vision.

“Solly,” Tavish prompted more gently now, “Please tak' aff yer helmit. Ah need ye tae look at me.”

When Jane moved his helmet up and slowly opened his eyes, he saw the demoman inches away from his face. He backed up a bit until his back hit the trunk of the tree. He was trying, he was trying, he was trying, he was doing good, Jane Doe told himself as he did his best to ease back into the present. It was dark. Was it night time?

“Can Ah tooch ye?” asked the Demoman, voice now sounding less foreign despite the newly created distance between the two. Soldier tried to open his mouth to ask where, but his voice cracked and only a squeak came out. Before he could try again, Demo noted his hesitation and clarified “on yer shoolder.”

Jane stuck to actions this time and nodded his head. Despite the warning and the slow motions, he was still a bit surprised when he felt the Scotsman’s warm hand firmly grip the side of his shoulder. It felt nice compared to what he was experiencing minutes ago. The air prickled his skin and for once he was thankful for that. It grounded him. He thought he was still shaking.  _ Was  _ he still shaking?

The voice in front of him could be heard speaking clearly now.

“Yoo’re safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> im not good at writing but at least i admit that
> 
> comments n criticism are greatly appreciated !!!!!!!


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